note: this sequel has been abandoned for years and I have no intention of finishing it. but i found it in my google docs and thought some of you would like what i had written so far. enjoy.
Erasa gingerly held Gohan's face in her hands, and he sighed in contentment when she deepened their kiss.
He breathed deeply when she pulled away. Her blue eyes stared into his very soul, and a teasing finger traced the edge of his jaw, sending shivers down his spine. He licked his lips, eager for more, and he pulled his girlfriend in for another tentative kiss.
They sat side by side on the edge of his bed, shy bodies still inches apart as their faces pressed together. Their mouths opened and closed against each other, soft sounds of suction lost amongst the pleasurable whimpers. In a fit of passion, the blonde girl lowered one hand to rest on Gohan's thigh as she leaned forward push her tongue deeper into his mouth.
The half-Saiyan's breath hitched in fear as he felt the slight pressure of her hand so close to his sensitive arousal. Alarmed, Gohan bolted from the bed, sending Erasa sprawling to the floor in an undignified heap. The teenage boy stood back against his far bedroom wall, chest heaving as his eyes widened in regret.
"Gohan?" Erasa blinked, adjusting her skirt as she rose from the floor. "Are you okay?" she asked timidly. "Did… did I hurt you?"
Heart pounding, Gohan swallowed hard as he searched for the right words. He stuttered incoherently for a few moments before giving up. Erasa stood beside his bed patiently, and she watched as the distressed young man ran a shaky hand through his dishevelled black hair. He sighed. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his hoarse voice so low that Erasa strained to hear his words. "I'm so sorry. I just… I got scared." He avoided her gaze, trying to calm his breathing. "It was like… it was like I was…"
"It's okay," Erasa nodded, feeling a little heartbroken. "You're okay now."
In the three months they had been dating, they had done no more than kiss and occasionally hold hands. He had grown accustomed to her gentle touches- the way his chin fit in her small hands, for example. Yes, Gohan had made great strides with physical contact, but both teens felt their relationship stalling.
Their romance lacked something crucial.
Recently, Erasa had been longing for something more. And from the heated way she would occasionally catch Gohan looking at her, she knew he yearned to advance their intimacy as well. Yet here they were, another moment ruined by his crippling anxiety. Not that she could blame him- he had only just opened up about his past over the last few weeks, but from what she could tell so far, the boy had experienced some major trauma in his short lifetime. Nonetheless, his strong aversion to more intimate touches frustrated both parties. She knew they didn't need sex to be happy. But the fact that Gohan seemed to have a sexual interest in her, but couldn't overcome his fears, troubled her.
She took a deep breath, careful to keep her expression supportive so she didn't give her boyfriend the wrong impression.
He said nothing in reply, only squeezing his eyes shut tightly, trying to rid himself of whatever memory had resurfaced when they touched. She could see the faint outline of a hard cock beneath his baggy gi pants, and she bit her lip. The hormonal girl would just have to settle for stolen glances. She would have to wait for him to make the next move in this situation, whatever it may be. She would wait for him, and she would wait for the right moment with him, even if that moment never came.
Finally, he nodded, as if convincing himself of something. "I- I'm okay," he said, his voice even again.
Her expression relaxed and she smiled at his ability to avoid a full-blown panic attack. It didn't always work, but he had greatly improved thanks to some meditative advice from Piccolo.
Gohan looked to her, suddenly unsure of himself. "Do… do you want to-?" His words hung thick in the air.
His girlfriend bit her lip again, ignoring the taste of her chapstick rubbing off. "Maybe we could try something else," she suggested.
At the sight of her the half-Saiyan's disappointment, she promptly clarified. "I mean, what if we kissed again, and I promise I won't touch you."
He seemed to consider her proposition for a moment, and Erasa cheekily added, "but the catch is you can touch me all you want."
The boy's eyebrows shot to his hairline. "W-what?"
She sat down on his bed again. "Well," she said coyly, "That way you can adjust to trying something new. We can take things at your pace so you don't feel… out of control."
"B-but," he stammered. "How would that be fair to you?"
The girl sighed. "Gohan, I really like you. And I hope that one day we can, you know… go all the way."
The boy turned beet red.
"And if baby steps are what it takes to get there, then I'll take as many as you need," she finished, searching his eyes for an answer. "After all, you know I don't mind being touched. In fact, I like it when you touch me."
Throat dry, Gohan looked at Erasa with admiration. "Thank you," he managed to say. "Thank you, Erasa."
"If you really wanna thank me, you can start by kissing me!" she laughed, slightly embarrassed by the sincere attention.
With a grin, Gohan moved toward her once more, and he hesitantly lowered his head to capture her lips. Her hands rose for a moment, as if to latch on to him on an impulse, but she quickly grasped the edge of her skirt to keep her promise.
His hands softly held her shoulders before moving around to touch her upper back. He persevered, careful to hold back his immense strength and power so he didn't risk harming the fragile human in his arms.
"Gohan," Erasa breathed, pulling away slightly. His fingers twitched as she took his hands in hers. He looked at her, and in response she moved his hands to rest low on her waist, his thumbs brushing against her exposed midriff.
"Erasa," he whispered back, unsure of what she wanted him to say or do.
Watching his face carefully for any signs of discomfort, she slowly guided his hands up the front of her shirt. His breath hitched as she rested his large hands on her breasts. As his wide eyes moved down her chest, she eyed his rigid posture with concern.
"Wow," he admitted, his face flushed with heat. "I've- I've never…" he mumbled, his nervous eyes flickering toward her chest once more. Mustering up the courage, he whispered, "You're so hot, Erasa."
In response to his sultry voice and the sudden dampness between her legs, Erasa leaned forward into him touch, arching her back so his hands fully encompassed the thin cups of her bra.
Slightly emboldened by her reaction, Gohan raised his hands to watch her sweaty cleavage grow as he pressed her breasts together. Erasa's breaths became heavy, and she wiggled in place as she yearned to touch him. Pulling back for a moment, Erasa peeled her halter top over her shoulders, and Gohan resumed his timid exploration. He eyed her shape with a teenage curiosity he had never truly experienced before. Seeing a hard nipple peek through her yellow bra, Gohan slipped his thumb over the fabric to brush the sensitive tip, eliciting a sharp gasp from the horny teenage girl.
The half-Saiyan nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt someone grab the front of his shirt, a pale hand clutching the fabric into a tight fist. Much to Erasa's surprise and disappointment, he immediately broke the contact, tumbling off the bed again to land on the floor. "Sorry," he rambled. "I-I didn't mean to hurt you!"
"Oh! Oh, no, Gohan, you didn't hurt me," Erasa managed to say. "I- I'm so sorry… I got caught up in the moment and I just grabbed you because I liked it…"
"Oh," he replied lamely, silently cursing himself for misinterpreting her reaction.
Rubbing his aching bottom from the unexpected fall, Gohan sheepishly sat next to his girlfriend once more, both avoiding eye contact with one another.
"Can I ask you something?" she said, breaking the silence.
"Of course," Gohan replied, opening his eyes to better gauge her expression.
"Do you… do you like my body?"
The boy shot to his feet, and she silently reprimanded herself for pushing him too far.
"E-Erasa!" he sputtered, clearly embarrassed. "Why-why would you ask that?"
"Well, I was wondering if it was just other people touching you that bothered you, or…"
"Or what?" Gohan asked, dreading what she might say next.
"Or if it was just- you know," she looked embarrassed herself now for having had the thought in the first place. "I thought for a second maybe… maybe you weren't interested in sex. Or maybe just sex with me."
"Oh! N-no, no," he half-mumbled. "I do want… that stuff. With you."
The tension left Erasa's shoulders. "Oh," she said. "Okay."
The two looked around the room awkwardly for a few moments, neither sure what to do next. The mood had been killed twice already in the hour that Erasa had been in his room- should they try a third time?
Suddenly conscious of the breeze across her chest, Erasa lifted the fabric of her tube top to temporarily cover herself. She was contemplating whether or not she should redress herself, when Gohan blurted, "A lot."
Erasa cocked her head, taken by surprise at his outburst. Blushing, he lowered his voice, "I think about you a lot. And about… your body."
Erasa's eyes widened as she realised he was trying to properly answer her question. Somewhat confident now, she prodded, "But-?"
His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. He looked at his dresser for a moment, and Erasa followed his line of vision.
A worn photograph of a small family stood framed atop his chest of drawers. A large man with wild, black hair dominated the picture, his orange gi reflecting a lot of light. A woman stood next to him, leaning into his chest. Her long hair had been pulled into a partial ponytail with black bangs framing her fair face. In her arms rested a small child with a yellow and green overcoat, that read "Son" in traditional red lettering. Erasa thought the little boy still looked a lot like the man standing before her, and still just as adorable.
"I was three then," he spoke again. "I was three in that picture. Everything was so simple. And then a year later-"
His voice cracked, and he released a sigh. "Raditz."
His girlfriend took a small step forward, wanting to comfort the obviously shaken boy, but also not wanting to crowd him. "That was your uncle, right?" she recalled.
"Yeah," Gohan mumbled. His glossy onyx eyes seemed to look through the old picture, as if focused on something else. "Raditz changed everything."
The room stood still as the sun began to sink from the sky, the soft light filtering in through Gohan's second-story window.
"That was the first time I truly knew fear," he recalled. The young scholar's face tightened and his brow furrowed as he tried to convey the thoughts and feelings he constantly kept buried. He paused for a moment to regain his composure, refusing to crumble at the memory, like he had hundreds of times before.
"I couldn't stop crying," he recalled softly. Closing his lids, he tried to simply state the facts rather than relive the experience. "I couldn't stop crying. And that's all I can think about every time someone grabs me. Is it Raditz, trying to rip me away from my father again? Is it Nappa? The Ginyu Force? The Androids?"
He opened his eyes, but refused to let any gathered tears fall.
"When will the violence end? When is the next time that I'll be truly fighting for my life again? When will I lose?" he pleaded to no one in particular.
He paused, and Erasa found herself unable to find any words of comfort. "I'm sorry," she said weakly. "I know it doesn't really make a difference, but… I'm so sorry, Gohan."
When he finally looked at her, a sad smile appeared on Gohan's haunted face, and he appreciated having someone he could talk to. "It always… hurt. But it hurt more in here, I guess," he said, tapping his index finger to the side of his head. He bit his lip in contemplation and eventually lowered his hand.
"I just… I think about it. I don't want to, but I do. And I just… I don't know," he stuttered. "I still live with the flashbacks. I still live with the nightmares. And then it's like the world around me fades away, and I find myself trapped in the memories."
He turned suddenly, catching Erasa off guard. She had been listening intently, hanging on every word of her boyfriend's horrific experiences. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the feeling only relaxed when he stepped toward her.
"But I like you," he said. "I really do. I'm just… I can hold your hand, and I can kiss you, but… It just scares me sometimes, to be that close to you. I want to, but I also don't want to hurt you by accident, Erasa. And I know you would never hurt me, but… I'm sorry. I'm just… different." He looked as if he had more to say, but bit his lower lip in indecision. Giving up, he shrugged, feeling rather vulnerable. He had bared his soul, and now, he couldn't take any of his words back.
"Well," Erasa said, her eyes flickering down to one of Gohan's hands. He noticed her eyes moving, and he nodded slightly. She took his hand, interlacing their fingers before giving what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. "I like different."
The lovestruck teens grinned at each other, and Gohan stooped slightly to give her a tender kiss on the forehead. "And I like you," he replied. She dropped the shirt she had been clutching to her chest, and instead tilted her head upwards. He kissed her lips softly before pulling away. Noticing her state of undress once more, Gohan quickly flushed, running a hand through his hair as he fought the urge to ogle her.
"Gohan," she whispered.
His eyes rose to look at her face, a hint of shame visibly written across his face.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to stare…"
She gave him a genuine smile. "It's alright," she said. "I want you to look."
"You're beautiful, Erasa," Gohan replied. His girlfriend giggled as she crossed her arms, careful to not obstruct his view. "I dunno," she said, sweating profusely as she tried to encourage her boyfriend with flirty taunts. "Sometimes I think they could be bigger. But then again, they wouldn't be as perky. What do you think?"
Gohan licked his lips, all coherent thought leaving his brain.
"I think you're perfect," he said.
Sensing their encounter had come to an end, Erasa decided to leave before she triggered him again by accident.
Soon after she left, the teenage half-Saiyan had refreshed himself with a very cold shower. After all, he still had plenty of homework left to do- homework that he was supposed to have been working on with Erasa. Gohan had only been sitting at his desk for a few moments, silently starting to work in his Physics textbook, when Bulma knocked on his door.
"Come in," he yelled, placing a worksheet in his textbook so he didn't lose his place. His adopted mother entered with a slow creak of the door as he finished gathering his homework.
"Hey," Bulma said. "Did Erasa already leave?"
"Yeah, she had to get home for dinner."
The blue-haired scientist made herself comfortable on Gohan's bed before cutting to the chase. "So... Trunks said both your energy levels were acting funny while she was here."
Gohan turned to look at Bulma quizzically, and the naive boy said, "But we weren't sparring. She doesn't know any martial arts."
Bulma groaned and put a hand over face. "Gohan! Vegeta once told me that energy levels can also spike together when people are getting hot and heavy."
The teenage boy nearly fell from his chair in shock, but quickly recovered enough to shout, "N-no, Bulma! I swear we weren't doing anything like that! We were just kissing is all, I promise!"
His mother couldn't help but laugh at his insistence. She knew he had to be telling the truth, but his innocent nature continued to surprise her.
"Hey, I'm not here to judge you, I'm just here to tell you to be careful, alright?" she said with a wink. "You still have the condoms I gave you? It was part of your 16th birthday present, if I remember correctly."
Her teenager shifted in his chair, embarrassed by the conversation, but nodded nonetheless. He cleared his throat to change the subject. "So you're coming with me tomorrow, right?"
Thin eyebrows scrunched in confusion as Bulma thought about her son's words. Realisation dawned on the woman and she promptly facepalmed.
Gohan groaned.
"I completely forgot!" she grumbled. "I'm so sorry, Gohan-"
"Bulma-" he started to whine, but she cut him off.
"Gohan, don't start this," she said. "It's not like I was going to be on stage with you anyway. So, you should be able to handle an interview without me backstage-"
"I'll just cancel," he rambled. "I'll just cancel and say- oh god, I'm a terrible liar, Bulma! What do I say?"
"Well first off, you're not cancelling," she stated firmly. "It's been months since the world found out you defeated Cell. You've been dodging the press for too long. You told me so yourself when you decided to accept this interview. Besides, everyone loves you! How could they not?"
Gohan ran a hand through his overgrown black locks. Glancing to the mirror hanging to his left, he realised his hair had haphazardly grown into a style very reminiscent of the one he sported at the infamous Cell Games.
He rolled his eyes at her comment. "That's what you always say," he mumbled.
"Well maybe if you can get it through that thick Saiyan skull of yours, I wouldn't have to repeat myself," she shot back, crossing her arms with a playful smirk. "So until that day, I'm going to keep reminding you: you don't give yourself nearly as much credit as you deserve. You are loved, Gohan. Never forget that."
He allowed himself a small smile at her callousness, and he stood. "Well, if you're so sure... I'll go, okay?"
"Great!" she chirped. "Thank you, Gohan. I really am sorry I can't be there. I'll let Vegeta know to leave with you at 5pm sharp tomorrow."
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Gohan said, standing up. "I can't take Vegeta with me! Have you lost your mind?"
"Gohan, you're underage, remember?" Bulma said, unphased by his retort. "We've already decided you're going. ZTV told us you need to bring a parent or guardian with you, and since I can't come-"
"No way," Gohan replied, his heart racing once more. "Vegeta's going to ruin the whole thing! He'll... I don't know. He'll blast someone, and then say something horrible, and then everyone will hate us and we'll have to use the dragon balls to make them all forget, and-"
"Vegeta is taking you and that's final," Bulma declared, rising to her feet with hands on her hips. "You're being completely irrational, Gohan. You know Vegeta would never be that irresponsible in public! He's changed quite a bit over the last few years, and you know that. He is going with you and that's the last we're discussing about this."
"But-" Gohan tried in vain.
"Nope," she said cooly. "I don't want to hear it, Gohan. I want you two to come right back here after the interview tomorrow. I'll probably be out of my board meeting by then, and you can tell me all about it. Okay?"
With a heavy heart, Gohan nodded like the respectful, obedient son Chi-Chi had raised him to be. "Yes, ma'am."
Bulma gave him a small smile for his cooperation. "Look," she said softening her voice. "I know this is hard on you. But I really am proud of you for taking this step. I think it's perfectly normal to be nervous, but please trust me when I say everything will be okay. I love you, Gohan."
"Thanks," he said, settling down in his desk chair once more. He still felt like tearing his hair out, but knowing Bulma had faith in him kept him hopeful as well. "I love you, too."
"Dinner will be ready soon, Gohan," she chirped, standing to leave. With one last wink, she crossed his bedroom and closed the door behind her.
He didn't bother with a reply. His lower abdomen squirmed with anxiety, and he decided it would be in his best interest to skip dinner tonight. How could he possibly eat when he had an interview to prepare for?
When the door finally closed with a click, he collapsed onto his bed. He reached to the stack of notecards stacked neatly on his bedside table, and began flipping through them, already dreading dawn.
.
"Tonight is the night we've all been waiting for," the middle-aged man announced, voice suddenly somber. "It's been just over five years since this very studio was infiltrated by the terrible creature known as Cell. And just minutes later, his fall was claimed by none other than Hercule Satan."
Several boos rang out from the audience, but Keeki continued reading his opening monologue from the teleprompter.
"And as you all know, it was just three months ago that the people of Earth discovered the truth. That a boy- the young Golden Fighter- was the true world saviour."
Keeki waited for several cheers to die down. "For the first time since then the boy, now identified as Gohan Son-Briefs, has accepted an interview. Tonight, the world will finally learn more about the hidden truth of the Cell Games, along with the Satan Scandal. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our hero. Please join us, Gohan."
The applause made Gohan grimace as he stood backstage, but he soon swallowed his discomfort as he stepped out into the bright lights of ZTV Live Stage 5. He smiled at the crowd and at Mr. Keeki Ko, the host of the channel's most popular talk show. Keeki offered the boy a seat, which he gratefully accepted.
He could feel his underarms already damp with perspiration, but Gohan already felt somewhat bolstered by the crowd's reaction to him.
"Maybe this isn't so scary," he thought to himself.
"My, you're quite tall, Gohan!" The man said with a chuckle. "Welcome, welcome. Thank you for coming tonight."
"The pleasure is all mine, sir," he politely answered.
"So, How old are you, son?"
"Um, I'm 15, sir," Gohan replied, careful not to add the extra year from the Time Chamber.
"Wait, 15?" the man said, his grin fading. "So, you were just 10 when you fought in the Cell Games?"
Several audience members gasped at the revelation. The world had known the Delivery Boy was young, but they had assumed him to be at least in his teens judging by his excessive musculature.
Gohan swallowed the lump in his throat. "Well, no use in beating around the bush," he thought, starting to feel the familiar sense of nausea that accompanied his memories.
"I was 9 years old when I first learned of Cell," Gohan said, glancing down at his polished loafers. "About a week later, I turned 10. And then a week after that was the Cell Games."
"That's incredible! You were so young. How did you achieve such supernatural powers at such a young age?" Keeki asked, adjusting his glasses as he looked at Gohan with great interest.
"To be completely honest," Gohan began, carefully reviewing his list of secrets, "I was born with my abilities. It's something I just inherited from my father."
"Ah, and your father is Goku Son, correct?" the older man asked. "The infamous 23rd World Martial Arts Tournament champion. And he taught you martial arts?"
A few gasps of astonishment poured from the crowd as they recognized the name from Mr. Satan's many rants. One or two audience members didn't even bother to try and pick their jaws off the floor.
"For those of you who may be too young to remember," Keeki continued, this time looking directly into his camera, "Goku was rumored to have destroyed the Red Ribbon Army, and is confirmed to have defeated the Demon King Piccolo and his son. All single-handedly."
The teenager blinked, his mouth suddenly dry. "What? How did you know all that?"
"Well, since you refused to speak publicly for a quite a while, many of the students at Orange Star High volunteered information about you," he revealed. "It started with your father's name, and from there, public records told me everything else."
Recalling his many verbal altercations with Videl, Gohan nodded, understanding how that more students must've overheard that he perhaps realised at the time. Still, Gohan felt uncomfortable at the mention of his father's great feats- he felt as though he could never compare to the legacy his father had carved for himself.
"So, Gohan, why have you been strangely quiet on this matter, both recently and over the past few years? Why did neither your father nor the other fighters speak out against Mr. Satan's lies?" Keeki finally asked.
"The Cell Games was a very difficult day for my family," Gohan said, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart and the bright lights above him. "My father… he died that day."
"Oh my," the host said, eyes wide. "I am so sorry, Gohan. I didn't know that."
Nodding once more, Gohan gave an obviously strained smile. "Like I said, it was a hard time for us. We didn't realise Mr. Satan had taken the credit until after the entire world had heard about it. At that point, we didn't have the will to challenge his word. We cherished our privacy, and spent that time grieving and trying to move on."
"You are such a brave young man," Keeki said, sympathy clear in his eyes. "Thank you for destroying Cell. The world owes you a great debt."
"No," Gohan said quickly, much to everyone's confusion. "That's just it. No one owes me anything. I fight because it's the right thing to do, and that's it. I don't want the treatment Mr. Satan got. That's just not me. Besides, I couldn't have done it without my friends and family. It was a group effort, for sure."
"And what of Mr. Satan, now?" Keeki pressed. "Do you have anything to say to him?"
Shaking his head, the teen replied, "I don't have anything to say other than to express my disappointment of how he's talked about my family over the years. While it's something I have learned to forgive, it's not something I will ever forget."
"You sure are wise for a teenager," Keeki commented. "Then again, I hear your mother is none other than Bulma Briefs. Is it fair to say you inherited her brains?"
Wincing, Gohan said, "Actually, I'm surprised you didn't find that out in your research."
"Find out what?" Keeki asked, a thin eyebrow raised in confusion.
"I'm an orphan," Gohan admitted. "Bulma is my adoptive mother."
"What?!" Keeki said, incredulous.
Murmurs broke out in the audience.
"My real mother- er, my biological mother- died shortly after my father," Gohan clarified, squeezing his eyes shut. He paused to take a deep breath, quelling his nerves before continuing his explanation.
"She was pregnant. The stress from my father's death, combined with an already-difficult pregnancy took its toll on her, and she passed on a few days after the Cell Games," he said. "And my sibling… well, he... he didn't make it."
Stunned silence engulfed the studio. Gohan's only comfort was being able to feel Vegeta's warm energy just twenty feet away, backstage. He concentrated on it, trying to distract himself from the tears building behind his eyes.
"So, you see… fame was kind if the last thing on my mind," he finished meekly. "I was more focused on trying to out my life back together, and my friends were trying to do the same."
"It sounds as though you've lived a very difficult life, son," Keeki said softly, genuinely sympathetic. "Can I ask how Bulma came to be your guardian?"
"She and my father were friends as children," the boy replied. "I had a rough childhood, even when my parents alive... And she was with us almost every step of the way, so I trust her whole-heartedly. I can't thank her enough for taking me into her home. Bulma, her husband, and her son are my family now, and they always will be. I love them."
"Please, can you tell us more about your childhood?" Keeki asked, leaning forward in his seat. "Why do you say it was rough? And how long have you been training with your incredible powers?"
Erasa leaned back into the armchair, biting her nails as Gohan gave an extremely vague answer to avoid dispelling any chaotic details. She looked over to Sharpener, who held his face in his hands. The athlete took deep breaths, trying to process the new information as Gohan spoke.
"You okay, Sharpie?"
He rolled onto his back, facing the ceiling as he let Erasa's large bed support him.
"How can you ask that, after everything that's happened?" he answered, his voice low and serious.
"I know it's hard with her gone, but I know she'll be back one day," Erasa said, clutching a hand to her collarbone. "I just know it. Videl is strong. She'll get through this. But while she's gone... Well, right now, we have to focus on helping Gohan."
It had been months since the Satan family had disappeared. The house had been repossessed by the world government, all of their assets frozen, and several weighty charges had been filed against Mr. Satan himself in the international criminal court. While Erasa had initially freaked out when she saw police swarming the Satan estate the morning after the incident, Gohan had assured her that the small family was safe, tucked away in a capsule house until public opinion softened toward them.
"I just want to see her," Sharpener groaned. "We've all been together for so long… I know it's not really his fault, but everything changed when Gohan showed up."
"You're right," Erasa said with a glare. "It's not his fault. And you know why we can't visit Videl just yet. Bulma's afraid that someone could follow us there. But if Gohan says they're safe, I believe him."
Turning back to the screen, she added, "I know him. He would never let anything happen to her, even after everything Videl's said to him, and even after all Mr. Satan's said and done, I know he'll keep them both safe."
"Thank you so much for joining us tonight, Gohan," Keeki said, extending his hand for the teen to shake.
The sharp, high-quality cameras were able to pick up the faint fear in Gohan's wide eyes as the black orbs flickered down to the man's hand. Erasa bit her lower lip, quieting down as she watched her boyfriend's nervous movements.
"It's… no problem," the boy said, forcing a small smile. Instead of shaking the man's hand, he bowed. Caught off guard, Keeki quickly bowed in return, remembering Gohan's mention of being raised within the old customs of the mountain district.
With a relieved sigh, Erasa turned the TV off as she saw the audience applauding the end of Gohan's interview.
"I said no, Vegeta!" Gohan yelled, exasperated.
On their way home from the television station, Vegeta had led the pair to a sandy wasteland. Before Gohan could even ask, Vegeta had already sent several energy blasts toward the teenager.
"Stop!" Gohan demanded, his frantic body automatically redirecting each blast as it hit him, the cuffs of his suit sleeves already blackened with suit. "I don't feel like sparring!"
"Get your head out of your ass," Vegeta snapped, punching his adopted son right in the stomach. Spittle flew from the boy's mouth as he failed to block the attack. "You're tense, and you need to relax."
"This isn't relaxing!" Gohan cried, clutching his abdomen. He could feel panic rising in the back of his throat like bile. While he had been on the receiving end of many brutal spars with Vegeta over the years, the prince always ended up stopping as soon as Gohan lost the will to fight.
But cleary, the man had something else in mind tonight.
"Vegeta!" Gohan exclaimed, dodging a fierce roundhouse kick. He caught the next punch with a shaky hand and met his adoptive father's dark gaze. "Please, I don't want to!"
The boy felt his breath coming in quick bursts, and his head felt light. He was losing control of the situation, and if he wasn't careful, he would lose control over his emotions as well.
"Your power does not come in response to a desire," the full-blooded Saiyan growled.
Breaking the boy's grip, Vegeta kicked him in the face, sending the teen careening backwards.
"It comes in response to a need!" The dark sky lit up with a golden flash as Vegeta transformed. The wind battered Gohan's mangled three-piece suit, and the boy threw his hands in front of his face.
"And what exactly do you think I need?" Gohan shouted. "To pretend like everything is okay when I just spent an hour talking about my dead parents? To let you beat me up so I feel as shitty on the outside as I do on the inside?"
The next strike just barely missed the boy's nose, and Gohan flung Vegeta's arm to the side, and out of his personal space.
"Transform, already!" Vegeta yelled, sending Gohan stumbling backward with another energy blast. "Let it out, brat!"
"Let what out?" Gohan screamed, tears falling from his eyes. He fell to his knees, unsteady hands grasping the dirty sand between his fingers. "This?" he demanded, lifting his wet face to meet Vegeta's surprised gaze. "Is this what you want?"
Crossing his arms, Vegeta quickly regained his composure, his face slipping back into its familiar stoic mask. "Your father would be disappointed in you," he said, his voice lacking its bitter tone for once.
"My father is dead!"
With an agonizing howl, Gohan's energy exploded in yellow flames, his powerful aura pushing Vegeta back several feet.
Still on the ground, the Super Saiyan boy sobbed uncontrollably. "He's dead," Gohan growled. "You're not my father- my father is dead! They're all dead. I have no one! Don't you get it? I have nothing!"
Vegeta's eyes widened as the boy's energy continued to sky rocket to new heights, and electricity crackled to life around Gohan.
And as suddenly as it had come, the well of energy had gone.
Dropping his ascended form, and from Super Saiyan altogether, Gohan collapsed onto his forearms, now as physically drained as he felt emotionally. Thick tears poured from his dark eyes, soaking the ground in front of him.
Unsure of how to respond, Vegeta took of without a word.
Gohan didn't notice. All alone, he cried himself to sleep.
.
He wasn't sure how he had gotten home.
Red, bleary eyes now open, Gohan became aware of several voices outside his bedroom door. His sensitive ears strained to hear, his body still completely exhausted, but he managed to pick up a few lines of dialogue.
"I get that you were trying to help in your weird Saiyan way, but seriously, Vegeta?"
Bulma's voice said something else, before Vegeta interrupted. He growled something indecipherable before the door opened, revealing a tall, green Namekian.
"Ah," Gohan thought, relieved to see his best friend. "So that's how I got here. He must've sensed my energy rise last night."
Piccolo entered the room, closing the door behind him as the married couple continued to argue in the hallway.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his gruff voice as serious as ever.
Sitting up, Gohan saw that he had been divested of his torn and burned suit. Looking up from his bare chest, he winced as several of his joints cracked, and his lower back throbbed in pain.
"I've been better," Gohan muttered. "But I'll live. Thanks, though."
With a grunt, Piccolo looked up, as if thinking about what to say next. However, before he could think of a suitable reply, the bedroom door crashed open.
"Gohan!" Bulma shouted. Grimacing, Piccolo moved out of her way. Not evading her notice, she turned on Piccolo. "Why didn't you tell me he was awake?"
"It's okay, Bulma," Gohan said, coming to his friend's defence. "I just woke up."
"Oh, I was so worried about you!" the mother said, throwing her arms around Gohan's neck. The boy's hard muscles jumped under her touch. He wanted nothing more than to push her off, but he didn't want to hurt her feelings.
Feeling his discomfort, Bulma pulled away, settling on the edge of his bed a foot away. "Sorry, you just had me so worried when neither of you came home… I was afraid something had happened, and then Vegeta wouldn't tell me anything!"
She rambled on, and Gohan found himself slipping in and out of consciousness.
"Oh," she said, stopping suddenly. "I know you need your rest, but you have a visitor."
"A visitor?" Gohan asked, yawning. Hr nearly choked on air when he felt Erasa's small energy rushing toward the closed door.
He squeaked in embarrassment, jerking the blanket up to cover his exposed torso just as his girlfriend barged in.
"Gohan!" she yelled, pausing at the foot of his bed.
Tired of all the raised voices, Piccolo gave Gohan a meaningful look before disappearing through the open door.
"Right, I'll give you two some alone time," Bulma said, her eyes twinkling. She promptly closed the door behind her, dragging Vegeta off to another part of the huge house.
Now alone, Erasa took a seat near his feet.
"How are you?" she breathed. "What happened?"
Still clutching his dark blanket tightly, Gohan recounted his argument with Vegeta, leaving out the finer details of breakdown.
Eyes watering, Erasa wiped her face with the sleeve of her grey hoodie. "Bulma told me what happened, you know," she said.
With a sigh of defeat, Gohan slumped slightly. Seeing his dejected state, Erasa quickly amended, "I know you probably didn't want me to worry, but… you don't have to hide anything from me Gohan. I'm here for you, and that includes seeing you at your worst. Alright?"
He shifted in place, crossing his legs underneath the blanket. "I know," he murmured. "Can you… come closer?"
Heart pounding, Erasa stood to move around his large bed frame. She sat at his headboard this time, careful to keep some space between their shoulders. Kicking off her sandals to get comfortable, she placed her hand on the sheets between them, silently asking him if he wanted to hold her.
He hesitated. Before she could pull it back, however, he picked up her small hand and interlace their fingers. One hand still holding the blanket to his collarbone, he surprised them both by tugged her toward him.
"Closer?" he asked, his voice small and hushed.
And so she shuffled closer and closer, not sure where exactly he wanted her. After a few seconds of menial adjustments, he finally wrapped a tentative arm around her shoulders, gently pulling her to his side. She gasped at the bold move, but relaxed into the embrace as he let her press against the side of his torso.
"Oh, Gohan," she hummed, voice full of admiration.
"Erasa," he replied, as if her name was the standard response to an unspoken question.
She carefully snuggled closer to him, their hands still joined.
.
The interview had taken place Saturday night.
On Monday morning, Gohan could feel everyone at school looking at him.
Despite almost dropping out several times due to the social pressure of his newfound fame, Gohan had stuck by at Orange Star High School. He had gotten used to the stares and the whispers- after all, they weren't hurtful comments anymore. They could be shallow, annoying, and downright embarrassing, but they were always tolerable.
This was different, though.
"Hey, Gohan," one girl said. Tucking a loose strand of long, red hair behind her ear, she batted her eyelashes at him. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out sometime? With your kind of stamina, I sure wouldn't mind being up all night…"
Face thoroughly red, Gohan stammered an apology before abruptly leaving, pointedly dodging several more girls who followed him throughout the hallway.
"Gohan!" one guy shouted. Jogging to catch up to the half-Saiyan, the classmate said, "Cool interview Saturday. Heard about your parents, though. That sure sucks!"
"Yo, it's pretty cool you've been training since you were four," one athlete said. "How about we spar sometime?"
"I saw a photo of your little brother," another classmate said. "Trunks is so cute! How old is he again?"
Head spinning, Gohan found himself eating lunch alone on the roof. He braced himself to jump from the roof as he heard tgw thick, metal door clang open. To his relief, it was his friends.
"Hey, Mr. Popular," Erasa teased.
"Hey, Brains," Sharpener said. "Looks like you're the talk of the school again."
With a groan, Gohan hid his face in his hands. "I know," he lamented. "Ever since the interview, it's like everybody thinks they know me. It's almost creepy the way people talk to me now."
Nodding in sympathy, the blondes took a seat on either side of the half-Saiyan. "Videl struggled with the same thing, Gohan," Erasa said, opening up her lunch box. "You'll get used to it. Trust us."
"That's right," Sharpener said, digging into the chicken salad on his lunch tray. "But when you start rejecting babes left and right, be sure to give them my number, alright?"
The blonde boy yelped as Erasa threw a carrot stick at him, and Gohan couldn't help but chuckle. "Sure thing," he joked. "After all, I only have room for one girl in my life."
"Aw," Erasa squealed. "You're so sweet."
He leaned forward to receive a chaste kiss on the cheek. While Sharpener made gagging noises off to the side, Gohan unwrapped another slice of chocolate cake from his stack of bento boxes. Erasa gladly accepted the item, as was their daily routine.
"And where's my piece, Lover Boy?"
Sharpener, although cold and cruel when they first met, had slowly warmed up to Gohan over the past few weeks. With Erasa as their mutual friend, it was only natural that a bond formed between the two boys. Soon after, Sharpener had begun to fuel their friendship with an assortment of silly nicknames- which, unfortunately for Gohan, almost all of them stuck.
"Sorry, dude," Gohan laughed, opening his first lunch container. "A slice of cake will cost you a kiss, and I'm not sure I accept your currency."
"Ah, you're no fun," Sharpener grumbled, chomping through his lunch in playful aggravation.
Licking caramel off her pouty lips, Erasa moaned. "I love your grandma," she told Gohan. "I've never had such good cooking."
A pang of sorrow shot through Gohan's heart. While Panchy Briefs was an exceptional cook, no one could live up to his mother's kitchen artistry. He paused mid-bite as a memory passed through his mind.
His 11th birthday cake had been delicious. Or rather, it might've been had he been able to eat it.
Still not entirely in control of his Super Saiyan power, Gohan had blown the candles out too hard, splattering the baked treat all over his family's face. Krillin and Goku simply blinked in surprise, sharing a knowing look. The Ox King had discreetly started to lick the frosting from his beard.
And even though Gohan could've sworn his mother wanted to strangle him in that moment, she was actually the first one to laugh. Her loving smile soon spread, infecting everyone in attendance as they so desperately tried to wipe the buttercream frosting from their eyes.
That was the last time he could remember her baking a cake.
She would be dead a week and a half later.
Shaking the morbid thoughts from his head, Gohan saw Erasa looking at him, her big, blue eyes clearly concerned.
"Sharpie, would you mind giving us a moment?" she asked. "We'll meet you in calculus, alright?"
With an exaggerated sigh, the jock piled his trash onto the cafeteria tray before sauntering down the staircase. "Later, lovebirds!" he called, the heavy door slamming shut behind him.
"What's wrong?"
Both Gohan and Erasa cracked a small smile as they tried to ask the same question at the same time.
"You go first," Gohan said, turning to face her. Still seated in the concrete roof, he pushed his remaining food away, intent on listening to his girlfriend's concerns.
"What were you thinking about?" she whispered, as if her low volume wouldn't attract any bad memories.
"Cake," he said, only bothering to tell her half the truth. He felt lighter already just by looking into her eyes. They reminded him of the sky on a clear day- an open sky that he could get lost flying in.
"Oh, really?" she quipped, clearly not believing him.
Just then, he remembered the first time he had given her a slice of his grandmother's cake. She had moaned, and that memory sent a shiver up his spine. Feeling particularly brave today, he raised a hand to her chin, gingerly moving his thumb over her bottom lip.
"You missed a spot," he mumbled.
She froze, caught off guard by his casual touch. Shaking her head slightly, she grinned, relaxing around his outstretched arm.
Remembering how she always seemed to be rubbing spilled condiments off his shirt, she played along. "Oh?" she said, pretending to be innocent of his intentions. "Can you help me with that, Gohan?"
Without answering, the teenage boy swooped down to timidly press his lips against hers.
Pulling away, Erasa pressed, "No, seriously, though. Are you doing okay? With everything going on?"
He sighed. "I'm coping," he said. "Or at least, I'm learning to."
She looked away for a moment, something obviously in her mind. He waited patiently as she turned back to him. "Have you… heard? About the tournament?"
He raised an eyebrow. "What tournament?"
"Well, with Mr. Satan out of the picture, the world is apparently eager to name a new champion," she revealed. "And everyone is expecting you to fight."
Eyes bugging out of his head, Gohan shuffled backward in surprise. "What?" he yelped. "Are you serious? I don't wanna compete!"
"And you don't have to," Erasa assure him. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Gohan."
He groaned. "I have a feeling I'm not gonna get off that easy, though."
"Maybe you can get your friends to enter?" Erasa suggested. "Like… maybe you can make it a fun day out or something."
He made a noncommittal noise,l before running a hand through his shaggy hair.
"Whatever you decide, you know I'll be there for you," she added. "I've got your back."
The tension eased from his shoulders as she spoke, and he scooted forward to sit next to her once more.
"Thank you," he said. Looking down, he fiddled with a button on his shirt. "I… I know I'm a lot. Like, a lot to deal with. And I just wanna say-"
"No," she interrupted, frown etched into her glossy lips. "No, we're not doing this again. You're not a burden on anyone, Gohan. I wish you'd just see that!"
Upon seeing the fiery look in her eyes, a small smile snuck onto his lips. "Thank you," he said, feeling like the luckiest boy in the world. "I mean it, Erasa."
Looking down, he took her hand in his own. With a thumb, he stroked the back of her hand absently, marveling at how small she looked compared to him.
A rush of emotion hit him all at once, and he felt his next words dry up in his mouth. He blinked several times to regain his composure, still looking at get hand. And as always, she waited patiently for him to collect his thoughts.
"We should… probably get to class," he finally said, looking up to meet her gaze. Her face fell, but she tried to hide her disappointment with a laugh.
"We should find Sharpener, too," she chuckled. "You know how trouble has a way of finding him."
Gohan grinned, packing up their lunches with his super speed.
Erasa stood, dusting herself off with both hands. Walking hand in hand, the young couple hid their lunch boxes in their lockers before heading to class.
"Hey, look!" someone said. "It's him!"
Gohan ducked behind a corner, pulling Erasa with him. Nearly a week had passed since the interview, and the young hero was getting recognized more often than not now.
Before the interview, he hadn't had too much trouble with the fame and paparazzi. Despite the world knowing his true identity, as well as knowing he could change his appearance at will, most citizens still thought of him as the short boy with blonde hair from the Cell Games. Since his appearance on the Keeki Ko show, however, his current look was now fresh in everyone's minds.
A flash caught Erasa's eye, and she steered Gohan through the crowded sidewalk, toward a narrow alley the next block over.
"We lost them," Gohan announced, sensing that several energy signatures were no longer on their trail.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to pick me up," Erasa said, pulling her green jacket tighter around her slim frame. "I should've just met you at Capsule Corp."
"No way," Gohan said, voice unusually firm. "I told you I don't mind. West City is too far for you to commute all the time!"
"It's fine though," she argued. "Ever since you loaned me Nimbus, I've been doing just fine getting to you on my own."
He stepped toward her, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers. They both closed their eyes at the contact, enjoying the shared warmth.
"But you have to leave your neighborhood to call Nimbus without suspicion," Gohan muttered. "It's not safe for you to be out so much after dark."
"I can take care of myself," she pouted. "I'm Videl Satan's best friend, remember? She made sure to teach me basic self-defence."
"I know, but I'll always worry about you."
"Well," she teased, pulling away from him. "Maybe if somebody wasn't always trying to get me alone at night, we wouldn't be having this same argument every day, hmm?"
"Don't say it like that!" he whined, his red face bright enough to see in the alley's near darkness. "You make it sound so… I don't know. Naughty."
She giggled before finally calling for Nimbus. The fluffy, yellow cloud dove for the couple within seconds, screeching to a stop by their feet.
"So, where are we going?" Erasa asked, taking her boyfriend's hand as he helped her step onto the golden cloud.
She settled next to him on the soft, magical surface, holding his hand tightly in case she somehow fell off.
"Well, it wouldn't be a surprise then, would it?"